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About The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 4, 1904)
Second Cousin arah by the avtho or "ANNE JUDGE, SPINSTER," "LITTLE KATE KIRBY," ETC.. ETC. g CHAPTER VI. Long before Keuben Culwick had made up his mind to rise the next morning, tiny knuckles had rapped significantly and persistently at his bedroom door. Reubn did not answer, although he smiled In his half-sleep, and knew that Tots was Htir, anxious to see him, to hear his voice, to know all about the big doll that he had told her last night was coming home with bis luiruage. At the fifth or sixth sum mons Heuben Culwick condescended to inform tl young lady on the other side of the door that he should be in his room In ten minutes, and that he requested the favor of Tots' company to breakfast. Tots, a ragged, unkempt, fair-hairad, blue-eyed child, had been found on the steps of the Prince Regent public house after twelve o'clock had struck, and the drinkers had been turned into the road way. No one knew anything about her, and she knew very little concerning her self. She said something about mother and father in an inarticulate fashion common to her eighteen months of exist ence, and she cried for mother for five minutes after the policemnn had shaken her froia sleep. It was a commonplace incident of poor neighborhoods. The only novelty about this affair was the interest of the man with the beard, who lodged at the firework shop. He took her under his protection and said that she should stay at the house in Hope street and be cared for till the morning. No inquiries were ever made concern ing Tots, though Reuben advertised and the police stations put up a bill on their blackboard along with their "Found Deads," "Burglaries" and "Murders;" Tots was never passed over to the parish. When Tots was scrubbed and combed by Lucy Jennings she was a hright-enough specimen of babyhood, and in twenty-four hours she had forgotten father and moth er and taken so desperately to Reuben Culwick that the strong man never found It in his heart to set her from his charity again. It was a wild idea, the .Tenningses thought, but they came to terms with the lodger for the extra trouble lnvohvd by the care of the child while he thought it was best to be done, until thinking over it became less of a habit and love be came a stronger element In Tots' favor and pleaded for her until the day of which we speak. For eighteen months had Reuben Cul wick been the protector of Tots, and Tots had lived in a world of imaginary uncles and aunts, and there was never now a talk of her going away. Reuben hud ac cepted an immense responsibility, and the weight of it had not oppressed him much. He had been a harder and sterner man before the child's affection for hiin had changed his character a little. Sitting at the table watching hei that day, with his life far clearer before him than It had been, he thought Tots would be like a daughter to him if be lived and if she lived. He Bhould never marry, and would be able to take care of Tots nntil some: respectable young fellow gave her a home and a name, and he was left alone to fight out the rest of his battle. What that battle was to be like, Reu ben Culwick was hardly certain. Once ho had thought that he was cut out for an author, that publishers would be run ning after him, and the critical press singing his praise and glory; but he was almost certain not quite that he had found his level on the l'enny Trumpet, and that a few pounds a week would be the maximum sum which his abilities, such as they were, might be able to pro euro him. Tots and he were having breakfast to gether, and Tota was asking a hundred questions, when the first post brought Mm a bulky packet and two letters. Lucy made some little show of dusting the fur niture with the corners of her apron, und then went reluctantly townrd the door. Reuben had not made a dash at his let ters, after his usual fashion, and Im parted the general nature of the con tents, and she said at last: "You are not curious about your cor respondents to-dny." "I can guess all about them." "I dare say you can," said Lucy, half disdainfully; "one's from a woman. What a change to your life after this dreary street, and us dreary people!" Reuben looked at her inteutly as he broke the envelope of his letter. She vas out of sorts still; he had not remarked it so much before, but she was certainly disagreeable kind of old-young woman, and particularly plain and thin. Hers was a hard life, keeping a house and a simple-minded brother in order, looking after a lodger and Tots, and not saving money. Poor old girl! what had xhe to make life bearable even? and why should be cross her temper, and put her out for tho day? "She writes a good hand," said Reu ben. "Who?" "The girl In gray silk." "I don't know who the girl In gray rilk Is; I have never heard you speak of her before." "Xo," said Reuben, "I suppose not. She was at my father's house yesterday morning, and I wondered who she was, and where she had dropped from. A pretty girl, too. Hallo!" "You are asked to return," exclaimed Lucy; "your father's heart has softened toward yon, and heaven wills a happier time for you, as I said that it would." "You are very kind, but this is from my second-cousiu Sarah." "She Is pretty, too, I suppose?" said Lucy, with a twanging voice. "Ahem! I don't know I dare say she might be. If highly got up for the occa sion. Ry the way, you might, with your extensive chapel connection, hear of something for Sarah. That poor old woman, Sarah the First," added Reub ui, thoughtfully, "may pass away at any moment, and I should like to be ready with a home for her. " Reuben Culwick settled down In his eld groove the following day; life went on with him steadily, and there was no shadow of discontent upon the path of his pursuing. A few evenings luter he met Lucy ss he was returning from a walk with Tots. "What a time yon hav been!" she said, peevishly ; "did you not say that you were coming home early this after noon? I wanted you to write a letter before the five o'clock post went out the country post." "The country post what for?" asked Reuben. "I have found a situation for that girl." "What girl Sarah Eastbell?" "Yes. Didn't you say, sneeringly and mockingly "enough, certainly, that with my extensive chapel connection I might hear of soint thing for her? The girl at the baker's, where we deal. Is silly enough to get married the week after next; there will be wanted aome one to take her place, to weigh the bread and put the right money for It Into the till af terward. I have answered for the hon ttj of this second-cousin j yours." 0 "Thank you," said Reuben, thought fully: "I wish there had been less pub licity about the berth and less of the till." He posted his letter. The answer came at length, in a thick, sprawling. down hill hand, which the blind woman niijjht have written herself, and which was certainly Sarah Eastbell's. It was an Ill-spelt and rambling epistle. It came hoping that Reuben was well, as it left the writer and Cousin Sarah at present, and it thanked him for his thought of that cousin, who wa a good girl, and would not leave her grandmother under any consideration now. Sarah was very happy and contented where she was; but it might be as well for Reuben not to trouble any more about what Mrs. East bell had said concerning a situation for her granddaughter. This epistle put Reuben Culwick out a little. It annoyed him more than he cared to confess it even puzzled him. Why had the grandmother altered her mind In so sudden and abrupt a fashion she who was very anxious concerning her grandchild s future when he had call ed at the almshouses of St. Oswald's? Ho would go for a long walk, and con sider the matter attentively. It was a gala night at the Saxe-Ootha, next door but two, and there was a heap of dirty boys and girls hanging about the front' door, where a row of colored lamps indicated the place fo pay before admittance was gained to the splendors beyond. He had to battle his way through this little mob, and in crossing the road he ran against a young woman, to whom he offered an apology for his clumsiness, and who muttered back something In re turn, and then made so quick and side long a movement from him that his at tention was directed toward her again. Second-cousin Sarah! Was he dreaming? Had he got the girl so deeply Impressed upon his mind that his thoughts had conjured up her wraith? He stood looking after her watching her proceed down Hope street as though she knew the place by heart; and as she passed under the gas lamp with her head very much bent forward, and a thin rag of a shawl drawn tightly round her, the black and white dress seemed even to the observant man in the background a familiar pattern, the alternate stripes of which he had last seen from the gateway of the alms houses. "Why am I troubling myself about her at all?" he said. '"What am I to her, What is she to me? Even if that were the girl suddenly turning up in my neigh borhood, at a time when her grandmother would have me believe that she was down in Worcester What!" he exclaimed, aloud, "it is she!" The female in advance had suddenly paused on the pavement of Hope street, injudiciously stopping beneath a second gas lamp, and looked carefully and eager ly in the direction whence she had come, as if to reassure herself that no one was following at her heels. After an unceremonious scattering of the boys and girls before the entrance to the Saxe-Gotha Gardens, the woman darted into the establishment itself, as if the sixpence for admission might con stitute an insurmountable barrier be tween herself and him who followed her, or as If he would not believe in any one with whom he was acquainted entering the place; but Reuben Culwick was in hot haste, and gained upon her rapidly. CHAPTER VII. Reuben Culwick lost time at the pay office. He passed along an avenne of stunted trees into the gardens, which he entered for the first time in his life, and looked round very keenly, but there was po trace of Second-cousin Sarah. He looked at the orchestra; he glanced, up at the acrobat, who glared down at him as at a new patron of the arts; he strolled from the crowd to a little grass plat, where was a time-stained fountain a Btone boy with a broken nose squirting a Jet of water from a shell, with a row of pupenlnnterns within the basin, whore some dips were flaring; and he passed from the grass plat to the extremity of the gnrdeu, where were John Jennings' fireworks, a scanty collection of mal formed objects reared upon high poles to give an idea of Importance and magni tude, and waiting John Jennings' pleas ure to hurst into smoke and flame. There was a figure crouching by the principal set-piece, and Reuben went toward it, and discovered his landlord. He would have backed away, but John had recog nized him. "Why, Mr. Reuben, what can yon pos sibly want here?" he exclaimed, scram bling to his feet. "What are you looking round for?" "For a girl in a black shawl and a striped cotton dress." "Good gracious!" exclaimed John. "She came in here, and I folowed her," continued Reuben "a pale-faced girl, with big black staring eyes. Have you scon a girl like that about "Hundreds poor wretches." ".Not a girl with a white, sorrowful face, such as she has. I am sure it was she." "She who?" "Oh, never mind," said Reuben, put on Ii is guard at last; "this is the business of your first floor, private and confidential, and momentous. Not a word of this to Lucy." Reuben Culwick moved restlessly about the gardens, scanning the pleasure seek ers, glaring into the arbors, looking down the dark avenues, and into the refresh ment saloon. Rut there was no sign of Sarah Eastbell no black and white striped dress even to identify its wearer. He lingered till the last, and went mood ily back to his lodgings, certain in his own mind that Sarah Eastbell had seen him and avoided hiin. There was another Sarah Eastboil on his .mind, too the old woman at St. Oswald's, down in Worcestershire. Wh it was she doing, prostrate and blind, with out her nurse, and without a friend? lie took up the current number of the Penny Trumpjet to refresh himself with nn ar ticle of his own composition, and then i.n advertisement stared at him In the face. 'Vhp Excursion to Worcester, Malvern and Gloucester." Reuben counted bis shillings carefully, looked up at the ceil ing, and went into an elaborate mental calculation on the spot. Yes, he would go away again. The next day he was In Worcester walking np the Tithing as If the place be longed to him. He passed through tl.e gateway and entered the square court yard, where he stood looking round him aa if for his Second-cousin Sarah, whose appearance seemed wanting to complete the picture. The door of his aunt's room was open, and be walked toward it, and eutered the apartment, where all was na he expected to find It The old woman lay In her bed aa he had seen her last, a quiet, patient, watchful woman, and there waa no one with her. Surely It was only I yesterday since he had called at St. Os i wald's. "Who's there?" aaid Sarah Eastbell, sharply, as he entered. I "Your nephew," he answered, walking to the bedside. "Yon received my letter about Sarah?" "Yes. It waa kind of you to think of her." "Where is she?" said Reuben. "Well," replied Mrs. Eastbell; "she has gone away for a little change. She wil' be back Boon." 'Is she in London?" "Yes." "What made Sarah leave you?" "Why, Tom came back from aea. Her brother a fine strapping young fello.v, who has got on in the world. He -.-ame here to see me at once," the old lady con tinued, "and Insisted upon giving Sally a bit of a change before he went away on board ship again, and the child wanted change, and they said looked ill, and so I persuaded her to go." "Has she written to you since?" "To be sure. There's a letter of here on the mantelpiece now." Reuben Culwick walked across and took down a letter therefrom. To his surprise it was addressed to two persons, the second one being communicated with a lead pencil at the top of the paper. "Don't read this to grandmother," was written in lead pencil, and in quite a lady'a hand. "Keep her aa cheerful aa you can without me. Let her think that I nm coming back Boon that I am happy with Tom, and that he ia very kind. I can't think of breaking the truth to her yet, that I can never, never come back any more. "Who reads the letters to you, aunt?' he asked curiously. "Mrs. Muggeridge or her niece, gener any, hecnuse the old lady stammers dreadful." "Now, why are all these people hum bugging this poor woman?" muttered Reuben, as he took a great handful of his beard into consideration with him. While he meditated, a very sallow face, chtseled deeply with ridges, peered round the room door, and two greenish eyes blinked at him through spectacles with wide horn rims. "One moment, Mrs. Muggeridge," Reu ben hastened to say. "I want you or your niece to tell me about Mrs. East bell'a granddaughter where she has gone, and why she has gone." "My niece!" said Mrs. Muggeridge, shaking her head again. "Ah I that's a little trick to keep that poor old soul go ing a bit till we take her off to the ceme tery, which can't be very long now. The young lady thought it would be the better plan not to tell her anything." "What young lady?" "She who comes once or twice a day now, Just to see her. Why, here she is, to be sure." (To be continued.) PLACER MINING FOR 8HOT. Two Men in Nebraska Are Making Money In a Novel Waj, Probably the most unique mine Id the world Is located within two miles of Omaha, Neb. Others have dug and washed for gold, sliver, copper, Iron, etc., but the owners of the mine In question, which Is a placer, are mining for shot, and the finished product Is turned out In quantities to earn a neat Income for the workers. Across the Mississippi Is located the Omaha Gun Club grounds, where fre quent "shoots" have been held for the last twelve years. Some time ago A. II. Cooley, formerly superintendent of the Barton-Nash Stone Company, and Thomas Brltton, formerly vice-president of the Brltton Engine Company, were walking over these grounds and noticed that at a certain place the earth was covered with a layer of shot At once the idea came to them that here was a paying mine If they could secure the right to work It, and keeping their discovery secret'they called upon the officers of the club and proposed to lease that particular spot for mining purposes. They were laughed at, but secured the lease. It Included a tract of ground extending from the shooting box a dis tance of 300 feet, with about 800 feet on either side. It Is over this tract that the shot Intended for clay and live pigeons fly. How much of It has been burled In the ground Is a question still to be determined. One thing, however. Is certain, there Is a great quantity of It, and the owners of the unique mine are taking out on an average of 800 pounds a day In working a space not t speeding twelve by fifteen feet. As soon as Cooley and Brltton se turnl their lease they purchased a tfas oline engine of two-horse power, with pump combination. Then they drove a well, striking an abundant flow of water at a depth of twenty feet. This done, they constructed their sluice boxes and were ready for work. As the shot Is imbedded In the ground to n depth of two foot, all this earth has to be washed over. To do this !t Is shoveled Into a sluice box 0 feet long, 2 Inches deep and 15 Inches wide, standing upon four legs about three feet above the ground. Water from the pump Is turned on and the dirt Is loosened, allowing the shot to drop to Hie bottom while the dirt Is washed out at the end of the box. When the greater part of the earth has been washed away the deposit in the bottom of the srulee, consisting of shot, stones and other foreign sub stances, Is placed In a second box with a wire netting bottom. Here a second washing Is given, after which the stones are picked out and the shot spread upon boards to dry. The shot Is then placed In bags holding fifty pounds each and Is taken to the foun dry. There It Is recast Into perfect shot or Into lend bars. Resurrected shot sells for $3.S0 a UK) pounds, a price a very little less than virgin lead. This difference of price is due to the presence of anti mony, which must be removed before casting. Selling at this price, the two men ate clearing $10 a day, and some days, by working extra hard, they net as much as $15. So successful have Cooley and Brlt ton been, says the New York Times, that they are now looking over the country for the location of other lead mine of a similar nature. All over the country there are abandoned shoot ing grounds, and on several of these they have secured lease. At Long Branca. . Inipecune Which of old Moneypen ny'a daughter are you going to pro pose toT Foreign Count Oh. th first. Judge. Larg-e Estate (n England. The thirty-four largest estate in Britain average 1S3.0UO acre apiece. THE IROQUOIS i.i i "ji "i ii 'in it v.V ...... JR. .: - 4 m ;; a h'-tiSMrd ikt3 & VTfl SCENE WITUI5 THE BURNING BUILDING WHEN THE FLAMES LEAPED FROM THB STAGE AND MADNESS SEIZED THE AUDIENCE. The Are at the Iroquois Theater In Chicago was the most appalling of .Chicago's disasters. In loss of life and In horrible details It stands first in th list of calamitous events In the history of the city. More lives wer lost In the theater fire than in the Fort Dearborn massacre, In the Lady Elgin disaster, la the burning of Crosby's Opera House, or In the great fire of 1871. More lives were lost in that half hour's panic than In any other hotel or theater fire In recent times. - In the holiday week of 1903, In the most enterprising city of the most progressive of nations In the newest theater of a city that lias given more attention to the building nnd equipment of amusement halls thun any other In the West, occurred one of the most appalling tragedies of the nge. The death list Is larger than that of a bloody battle, and the horrors of the death struggle of the hundreds who lost their lives were more terrible than any battle. ' " . The disaster was one of the worst of its kind In the history of the world. A holiday audience, composed mainly of women and children, In attendance upon a showy extravaganza, suddenly found itself (rapped and In Imminent peril of death In a hideous form. With an advancing wave of flame and smoke beating upon them, the terrified people began a desper ate rush to escape. The theater is the newest In the city and was supposed to be as nearly fireproof as a theater can be made. The builders had the opportunity to take advantage of every known safety device and to draw upon the lessons of experience In the construction of such buildings In all lands. Presumably equipped with sufficient exits and with every precau tion which human intelligence could devise, inspected nnd approved by city officials, this playhouse showed Itself to be only a deathtrap. There was a fireman on the stage, but his efforts, such as they were, amounted to noth ing. There was a "fireproof asbestos curtain" which would not work and which seem only to have served to turn the flames more directly upon the audience. There were exits supposed to be adequate, but they were choked and impassable almost upon the Instant of the first frenzied rush for safety. FIRST PICTURE hjA'.jas-.jcB- .-1m..7v -.. -f-iJi'n-i-i-,)--- ,r-,it- ""..'--I BOSTON IN ABOUT THE YEAR 1725. This view of Boston, made about 100 years after the town was first settled. Is the earliest picture of any place, building or landmark of any kind In New Englnud, known to be In existence. Any existing picture of the kind purporting to be of an earlier date than this one, and there are a few, Is spurious. This earliest pictorial representation, of any scene In New England, but three copies of which are now preserved, one of them in the Bostonlun So ciety's collection, In the old State House, was engraved on copper, In London, by J. Carwithani, from whom it derived Its name of "The Carwltham View," probably between the years 1724 and 1734. It was probably sketched by some local amateur artist in 1723, at which time the Boston newspapers were soliciting subscriptions for the engraving of a view answering this description. The engraving was offered for sale here In 1725, and if this Is the one, slight additions must have been made by some engravers about ten years later, since this view contains the spire of the present Old South Church, not built until 1720, as well as the Hollis street church, erected In 1731. Although the so-called Price's view of Boston was published a few years after this one, yet the Carwltham view remained the populur one as late as 18C0. In fact, the specimens now preserved belong to an edition printed from the plate as late as 1779, In response to a desire among the people of England to know something In regard to the appearance of the place that gave birth to the revolution. It Is Inscribed, "A Southeast View of the City of Boston, in North America," though Boston was not entitled to be desig nated as a city until forty years later. With a population of perhaps 12,000 at that time, Boston had twelve churches, although but eleven show In (he picture. WHY THERE IS A WISHBONE. Scientific Explanation of It Existence In Our hdtbla (owl Cnarlea J. Maynard, a well-known man of science, told the members of the Boston Scientific society at a recent meeting the reasons for the existence of what Is known as the wishbone In fowls. To begin with, the speaker de plored the lack of knowledge that ex ists regarding the structure of the birds Internally. "For example," said he," "It la doubtful If flv men In the United State know much about the auatomy of the common robin. The ornitholo gists know all about external charac ter, the color, arrangement and num ber of the feathers, methods of flight, habits and the like, but exceedingly little. about the Interior of tha birds they study." Classification have been made largely by externals, when study I of the auatomy must De a very im portant part of" the subject. He had himself begun with the anatomy, and more than twenty years ago. In some of his publications, he dared to sepa rate the owls from the hawks. They had been placed in the same order, and have so remained till very recently. Now others have separated them even more widely than Mr. Maynard did so long ago. ilia deductions were from a knowledge of the anatomy. The wishbone Is called by scientists the furcula and l In reallity the uulon of what are In man the two separate collar bone. These In the birds re ceive the brunt of the stroke of the wing that turn the creature In Its flight. Few realize the strength of stmke of the bird' wing. It la said that a swan ha been known to break a man's leg by a blow of Its wing, and In a like manner the wing-beatings of the larger birds are dangerous If they strike the head or face. If, therefore, a !ar;e bird Is in the habit of making suJd.u turn to right or left in Its fl'jiht It must be fitted with a wishbone com petent to withstand the great strain4 THEATER FIRE. . rii 1 i,'"'. OF BOSTON. of the wing stroke on' one side. For this reason we find In the eagle and like birds of quickly turning flight a furcula that Is a perfect Boman arch, widely at variance with the Gothic arch which Is the shape of the wish bone of our common fowls. The eagle's furcula Is a solid rounded arch, everywhere equally strong, and not de veloping those points of weakness that make our sport of breaking the wish bone possible. Blind People in India. It Is a strange and startling fact that, according to the latest available figures, the proportion of the blind to the sighted In India Is one In every j 000, so that, allowing for the usual i native reluctance to enter bodily de-1 fects In the census reports, It shows that more than 500,000 people In that country are deprived of sight. Diseases of the organs of sight have for ages been a peculiar feature of eastern lands. Among the cSuses are the continual glare of the sun, the prevalent dustiness of the air, the lack of cleanliness and due care of the eyes of the young. It Is a common sight to see the eye of babies one mass of flies and dirt, which the Ignorant, careless mother is too indifferent to drive away. This peculiar oriental affliction has long engaged the attention of philan thropists in India, and several socie ties are turning their endeavor to the mitigation of the evil, as well aa to providing book for the blind, and make adequate provision for their needs In every way. New York Jour nal. Women in Italian Post Ufflcea. Women are now being substituted for men In the Italian postal acrvlce. Signor C.allmbertl, the minister of ptrts telegrapha, la responsible for the change. Freshues of youth ofien spoils the man. 1 V INTERESTING BALLOON TRIP. French Artist Tells of His Experiences on tha Journey. Sem, the black and white French ar tist, who is a favorite in fashionable circles, has given a short account of his balloon ascent with the Duke and Duchess d'l'zes the other day. The artist merely went to the aerostutlc park at St. Cloud for the purpose of seeing the start of the aerial expedi tion, in which the Archduke Leopold Sahator, of Austria, took part, savs the London Telegraph. As the Duke and Duchess d'l'zes Viere settling themselves down In the car of the balloon Aero-Club the artist approached and wished them "bon voyage." The duchess, with the sweet est of smiles, said: "Can't you come, too?" nnd Sem felt that he could not refuse the Invitation. So away be went In the clouds, and soon found I himself over Chantllly. He was told to look down, and at first it made him dizzy to do so. By degrees he over came the dizziness and was able to see the tai th under him. It looked like a large papier-mache plan of places In the Louvre museum. The trains seemed to be caterpillars and the bouses small spots. In fuct, the whole thing looked painted and artificial. Coming closer to the earth the balloonists shouted to littlo specks of humanity below them and r.sked where they were; They heard a voice answering that (hey were rear Arras. That was tho lnt Indication they had before the del rent j Bluing nfcnln, they found themselves ! speeding at a tremendous rate through the darkened sky. Night had come on and thr y had no electric lights with them. They sat talking as In a salon, regardless of the heavy rain, which could not touch them. They were q:iite warm all the time. Suddenly under nomli them they saw long trains if tight, 'iittse were from the B-lgi.in (owns and furnaces. They even saw from their height five or six towns at the same time, and the aspect was nutglcal. The captain, Jacques Fanre, now sn Id that it was time to descend, cr else thej might be carried ovn1 the sea. They threw out the guide rope and It touched water. A few ml.iutes after It was on land, and the cup lain sung out: "Cling on well, we are going down!" They did as they were told and the balloon touched the earth and then bounded along by some trees. At last the envelope was torn and all got out They danced for Joy on the ground and did not care at the time where they were. The duke and duchess sat down on the car of the balloon, and so, too, did the artist, while the captain went to explore. M. Faure, after a search of nearly t n hour, discovered a native who could not Bpeak French, English or German when addressed by the captain in these languages. The native bad a gun In his band and looked dangerous. He was Anally made to understand by signs that a vehicle and lodging for the night were wanted. He took the sky travelers to his house and then to the chateau of the mayor, where they learned that they were in Holland. CHANGES IN THE PEERAGE. British Aristocracy Is Undergoing a Considerable Revolution Lately. "Progress Is revolution In disguise and by degrees," a well-known tory has recently said. It Is destined to make the peers powerless and the poor prosperous." The description will re mind many of the phrase uttered by Cromweil: "There will never be a good time in England till we have done with tbeiords." What Is the value of our peerage of today? Lord Beaconsfleld answered the question In "Conlngsby" many years ago: " 'Ancient lineage,' said Mr. Mill bank. 'I never heard of a peer with an ancient lineage. The real old fam ilies of this country are to be found among the peasantry; the gentry, too may lay some claim to the old blood. I can point you out Saxon families In this country who can trace their ped igrees beyond the conquest; I know of some Norman gentlemen whose father undoubtedly came over with the con queror.Bul a peer with an ancient lin eage Is to me quite a novelty. No, no; the thirty years' war of the roses freed us from those, gentlemen. I take It, after the battle of Tewkesbury, a Nor man baron was almost as rare a being In England as a wolf Is now. " 'I have always understood,' said Conlngsby, 'that our peerage was the finest In Europe.' " 'From themselves,' said Millbank, 'and the heralds they pay to paint their carrloges. But I go to facts. When Henry VII called his first parliament there were only twenty-nine tempor al peers to be found and even some of them took their seats Illegally, for they had been attainted. Of those twenty nine not five remain, and they, as the Howards, for Instance, are not Norman nobility. We owe the English peerag to three sources the spoliation of the church, the open and flagrant sale of honors by the elder Stuarts and the borough-mongerlng of our own times. Those are the three main sources of the existing pec-rage of England, and in my opinion disgraceful one.' " London Truth. These Dirda Are Ingenious. The crows of the orient are said to be far advanced In the art of stealing beyond the crows of this country. The story Is told of a pair of crow at Bom bay that robbed an optician of specta cle frames, entering his room repeat edly for that purpose! These birds carried off eiglrty-four spectacle frames of gold, allver and steel, which were so Ingeniously woven together In their nest that it was a veritable work of art. In the Swiss Museum of Natural History at Soleure Is a wagtail's neat built eutirely of dock springs. Several clock maker' shop were near, wber the waste lay scattered about the door. Thl the bird had woven with mncb ingenuity tnto a nent more than four inches acroas and entirely comfortabU for the little family. Cheap bat Cnreliable Labor. Farm laborer In Mexico tatj t employed t from 18 to 20 cent a day, though In many part of the country they are icarce and unreliable. Don't owe your neighbor a pudse;' cancel the debt at once. GEO. P. GROVELL, iRiiCi'fsnor to E. L. Smith, ..ublulied Hums In Urn vsllsr.) DEALER IN Dry Goods, Groceries, Boots and Shoes, Hardware, Flour and Feed, etc. This old-established house will con tinue to pay caeh (or all Its goods; it pays no rent; it employs a clerk, but does not have to divide with a partner. All dividend are made with customer in the way of reasonable price. Lumber Wood, Posts, Etc. Davenport Bros. Lumber Co. Have opened an office in Hood River. Call and get prices and leave orders, which will be promptly filled. THE GLACIER Published Every Thursday $1.60 A YEAR. Advertising, 50 cents per inch, single column, per month; one-half inch or less, 25 cents. Heading notices, 6 cent a line each insertion. THE GLACIER prints all the local news fit to print. When you see it in THE GLACIER you may know that others see it. ms& REGULATOR LINE PORTLaHD and the dalles ROUTE All War Lisdiiip. STEAMERS "BAILEY QATZKRT" "PATZES CITY" "KEOULATOR" "METLAKO" Connecting at Lyla, Wash., with Columbia River & Northern Railway Co. FOR W.hllacui. Dalv, Cetitorvllle, Goldendale and all Klickitat Valley point.. Steamer, leave Portland daily (except un. diy) 7 a. m., connecting with C. K. A N. tra n. at I.yle S l.' . m. lor Uoldemlale, arrive. The Hall.i 6:80 p. m. - Htramer leaves The Dalle, daily (except Sun day) 7:80 a. tn. C. R. & N. train, leaving Goldendala 0:19 a. m. connect, with thl.ateamer for i'ortland, ar riving Portland t p. in. Excellent meal served on all .teamen. Fin accommodations for teams and wagon.. For detailed Information of rates, berth res ervations, cunnectloti., etc., write or call on nearest agent. H. C. Campbell, Gen. oUice, Portland, Or. Manager, Beele & Morse Agents, Hood River, Or. OREGON Shoit Line and Union Pacific I Dinar TI!E SCHEDULES . I Portund, Of. Chicago gait Lake, Denver, 4:10 p. at Portland Ft. Worth, Omaha, Special Kansas City, St. I:2ua. m. Loui.,Chkagoand via ta&t. Huntington. ! At'antla St. Paul Fast Mail. 10:10a. m, Ex pres. 15 p.m. via Huntington. St. Paul Atlantlo Express. 7:S6a. av Fast Mall ;') p. m. via tpokao 70 HOURS PORTLAND TO CHICAGO No Change of Cars. Lowest Rate.. Quickest Tim. OCEAN AND RIVER SCHEDULE FKOM POKTLAND. ft) p.m. All .suing date subject to change For Kan Francisco ball .vert t day ;W. k Dally Ii. Sunday I Ui iv m. Falurday lk.Ui p. m. Cslum.la Ulnar lt.aai.ra. To Astoria and Way Laodluga. 8 00 p. m. I a. Sunday Ham lion., Wed. and Ft I. WIIISK.tr. Rlrtr. 8:80 p. m. Tum , Tha, Salem. Inderaii. aenre, (.orvallls and way landing. 1 CCa m. Tues., That, asaiak T.a.lll liver. i 80 p.m. Won.. W endfrt. Omgon Cttv, Dayton ana way Landings. It. Rlparla Insks llnr. iLv LwUtoa . m. an. I I I UV . Mm Xfeilruotpt RlptrUtoUwUton Pttly oat g IiU7. A. U CRAlti, General Paastnisr Ag.nt, rortla,0v. .V . BOAS, Hm Blv.r. "V